In another Life
by oddline
Summary: Set after "Those Who Meet Must Part", Nene and Izaya meet again. Alternate Ending Break You


**Chapter 100**

She looked old. Then again, the grainy black and white of the CCTV camera wasn't doing her any favours.

It had been unspoken, the promise they had made to each other. He would never look for her. Not intentionally. But she was so woven into the fabric of Ikebukuro that every now and again he would trip up on a seam and see her shadow slipping out of sight.

A whisper of the notorious Flashbang. The resounding thunderclap of Toyoshima's empire collapsing. The somnambulant nightmare of the Madoka suicide cult. And the untimely demise of its leader at Mimasuya Boulevard ringing like a death knell.

And her name on everyone's lips.

"_Iza-nii, Iza-nii, guess who we saw on the way back from the dojo…"_

"_Oh yeah, that's right! Dotachin's reporter friend was at the gathering too. Do you think she's a member of Dollars…"_

"_I know you hate it when I mention her, but I just thought you should know Celty found her passed out behind…"_

"_Izaya! Why not leave scheming tonight with all the other scum and take this delivery from my hands. The address is…"_

"… _don't care about whatever arrangement you had. She's unravelling all over again…"_

"…_in the year below you, I believe. She is reluctant to co-operate. My employees would be grateful if you could intervene on our behalf, Orihara-san."_

"_I loved her for five minutes and it nearly destroyed me. Destroyed Jun. God, you poor bastard…"_

Sometimes, deep in the night when fatigue was at its strongest, the chains bound tightly around the memory of her would relax and he would wonder. He would wonder if people laughingly reminded her of their school days when he would follow her home like a feral cat. If Simon winked at her when he read out her order of spicy tuna roll. Every Friday without fail. If her mouth went dry at the whisper of his name on the lips of a passer-by, a friend, an enemy.

Strangely enough, Shizuo was the only one who never uttered her name in front of him. Izaya chose to believe the protozoan was too busy using his single brain cell to uproot guardrails and vending machines to reminisce about the good old days. It was better than the alternative. The thought of Heiwajima Shizuo pitying him made his insides curl.

There was a twinge in his legs, and the wheelchair bound man released his grip on his thighs.

They were still close, Shinra had told him after he'd shown up at Izaya's apartment one night nursing a bottle of wine. Celty had just disappeared on another search for her head and they'd had a fight or something. "Shizuo has lunch with 'er every day, you know. I don't get it- I don't get it, she's right there, Izaya, right there and you just-"

Izaya had politely slammed the door in his face, after taking the nine thousand yen bottle of wine off his hands, of course. He didn't remember what happened next.

"Should I tell her to go away?" said Manami, appearing behind him. The buzzer rang again.

"Don't bother with niceties," Izaya said with a sigh as he wheeled himself round. "Just tell her to fuck off."

Manami pressed the intercom.

"Fuck off," she said coolly.

Izaya laughed dryly, cocking his head over his shoulder to see what she would do.

"What poor deluded woman have you gotten to do your bidding this time?" came a voice he hadn't heard in years. The intercom had distorted it a little, but still, hearing it again…

Izaya swung his chair back around and nudged Manami out of the way, leaning towards the intercom, a Cheshire cat smile on his face. "Sorry, my quota of poor deluded women reached maximum about six years ago when one of them jumped off a building and declared her love for me."

"That's a shame," said the owner of the voice, face obscured by her long dark curls. Izaya felt a sudden wave of frustration towards Manami for only having bought one surveillance camera. "And I spent hours on my application."

"Oh yeah," said Izaya. "And what did you get for question four?"

"Ah, that was a tough one," said the voice, sighing. "What is my greatest strength?"

Izaya almost rolled his eyes. Still, he couldn't help the smirk from widening. "And what did you put down?"

"That would have to be… ah yes-" There was a click and the front door swung open. "Lock picking."

Manami reached into the drawer and pulled out the gun Kino had left for their protection, pointing it squarely at the figure in the doorway.

"Déjà vu," said Nene, tucking something into the inside pocket of her grey, woollen overcoat. Resting both hands on her cane, she looked passed the barrel of the gun and met Izaya's eyes for the first time in six years. And she smiled, soft and singular.

"The roof is three floors up if you want to make it a perfect recreation," said Izaya. "Was it the left or the right arm, just so Manami can be totally accurate when she shoots you?"

"Oh, if we're being _totally_ accurate then shouldn't you be on your knees screaming my name?"

Something dark came over Izaya's features, his lips pursing together in a bitter smile.

"Excuse me, Manami Mamiya-san," said Nene, "do you mind giving us some time alone?"

"How do you know my name?" demanded Manami

"I know that you've never fired a gun before. And I know that it will take me less than a second to disarm you. But I'd rather not do that. I saw a nice cafe on my way here. Why don't you go grab yourself a hot chocolate and forget all about Orihara Izaya for a few hours?"

The gun lowered until it was clanking back in the drawer. Manami glanced at Izaya for confirmation but he merely shrugged. Turning back to Nene, Manami was greeted again with that soft smile and felt a strange sensation in her chest. Without another word, she grabbed her coat off the rack and left. The click of the door shutting plunged the apartment into an uneasy silence.

"Izaya-"

"Let's get this over with," said the former informant, wheeling himself out onto the balcony. Nene followed him. From the corner of his eye he noticed that she no longer leaned to one side on her cane. "What sort of trouble has Kimi-san gotten herself into this time? Has the strain of arresting her own father sent her hurtling back to alcoholism? No Dr. Akaike to psychoanalyse her inferiority complex this time. You made sure of that I heard."

"And Kishitani-senpai said you didn't even keep tabs on me anymore," said Nene, resting on the porch swing.

With his back to her, Nene could not make out if Izaya was affected by the mention of his former friend. "Ah self-absorbed as always. Does a fish count every drop of water as it swims through the ocean?"

"No, you're right," said Nene, gazing as shafts of light poured in through the trellis and glinted off the chrome handles of Izaya's wheelchair. "It was the same for me."

Izaya said nothing, looking over the side of the parapet at the small street below him.

"They didn't make it easy," continued Nene. "It's not like they brought you up in every conversation. Eventually, I got used to it. Like background noise."

The grip on Izaya's armrest tightened, his eyes narrowing sharply. Background noise.

"Sometimes I would see you in the street," Nene added warmly. "I didn't look forward to it or wait to see you or anything I just… sometimes I would see you and I would feel…"

There was a sniffle. Izaya's wheeled round to see Nene with her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking silently. A look of boredom settled on his face as he watched her, waiting for it to subside.

"Six years later and this is the best face you could show me," said Izaya, disappointment dripping condescendingly from every word. "I think you should make good on your promise and leave me alone."

Nene's hands slid up and over her face and Izaya felt his heart twist at the sight he was met with. Joy. Joy from every laugh line crinkled at her mouth, joy radiating from her eyes pooling with tears as she gazed at him. Pure and tender as she gripped her hair and shook.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered, her lips trembling. "I'm so happy you're not dead. I'm so happy…"

"Humans, letting yourselves be overcome like this," said Izaya. "So what if I had died. Would you have killed yourself? Sequestered yourself in a cave like a hermit."

"I'm so happy…" she repeated, burying her head in her lap and hugging herself.

Izaya's teeth clenched, his voice rising. "Tell me what you would have done if I were really dead, huh? I'm curious to find out what pathetic human thing you would have done-"

"I would have had you in another life," said Nene, lifting her head, her face blotchy and ugly with her happiness. "Because there are a thousand Nenes, a thousand Nenes who got to wake up to you every morning, who weren't too late, who had managed to crawl out of that crowd and save you. Who didn't- who didn't have to watch you die."

Izaya opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"I'm not making any sense right," she laughed and sobbed. It was such an ugly choking sound. "I don't care if I don't make sense. You're alive and I'm so happy I got to see you one last time."

Nene stood up then, still trembling slightly. The cane she had propped on the side of the swing remained where it was. She wrapped her overcoat tightly around her even though it wasn't cold and smiled softly at Izaya. The one that belonged to him.

"And now I'll really keep my promise, okay."

A curtain of her wild hair fell over her face as she turned to leave, obscuring it from Izaya's sight. And he found himself unable to say anything, just as he had that night on the sports field.

A thousand Nenes huh.

Then there must have been a thousand Izayas.

A thousand Izayas who let her go.

Which meant that just this once…

...

..

.

"_Nene-chan."_


End file.
